


Love Is The One Thing You Can't Plan

by sundaydriver



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Coffee Shops, Dogs, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundaydriver/pseuds/sundaydriver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry realized six months ago that he loved his childhood friend, Louis, as more than a friend. Ever since then, he had been trying, through a series of unsuccessful and hilarious plans, to tell him. He's finally at the point where, one way or the other, he's going to let Louis know how he feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Is The One Thing You Can't Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tilthesundies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tilthesundies/gifts).



> There is a scene with mildly dubious consent between Louis and a OMC, due to Louis' drunken incapacity. It's mostly implied, but I did want to warn for it, in case that potentially bothers anyone. 
> 
> I also fulfilled part of tilthesundies' fourth prompt:
> 
> _or another one where in 4x23 where elena confesses her love for damon, you could make it somehow where harry and louis have been friends for so long and harry's starting to recognize his feeling for louis and he's nervous about it all because he feels like louis doesn't feel the way [but he does, harry just doesn't know it]. and it just escalates from there, i don't know, make it anything you want, but somehow at the end they both end up confessing their feelings for each other and it's like happily ever after and all that._
> 
> There are no Vampire Diaries references, but I hope the story fits the basic premise you listed. Enjoy!

1.

As the strawberry custard bits slid down his neck into the collar of his jumper, Harry contemplated if he would actually be charged for murdering Niall, or if justifiable homicide would apply. 

“It’s the perfect way to get his attention, Harry! Just you wait and see,” Niall had said two days prior. 

Now Harry lay on his back in the front hallway of Louis’ apartment building, the destroyed dessert in pieces all over the floor, his clothes, and the remaining bits in Mrs. Thomas’ dog’s mouth. 

“I’m so sorry, love. Gertrude has _never_ done anything like that before. Are you alright?”

Harry peered up from the floor at Mrs. Thomas, (one of Louis’ elderly neighbors who he helped out occasionally when she needed something lifted or moved), and decided to not mention that Gertrude _always_ did things like “knocking over innocent bystanders” on a daily basis. Her massive St. Bernard, while friendly, did not know its own strength and thought it was smaller than it actually was. Harry had joked with Louis that it was the exact opposite problem that Louis had, where he thought he was bigger than he was, and the bruised arm afterwards was proof that there were some things that even Harry shouldn’t joke about with Louis. 

“It’s fine, Mrs. Thomas. I know how excited Gertrude can get when she sees people she knows,” Harry said, picking himself off the ground and trying not to cringe at the feeling of custard sliding down his back. 

While Mrs. Thomas did her best to clean Harry up with her lace handkerchief, (and only succeeded in making the stains worse), Gertrude was happily munching down on the last part of the dessert that had taken Harry hours to make the night before. He had scoured the Internet for the perfect recipe; even resorting to calling his Mum when he couldn’t find the one he liked best. He would never have bothered to bake the custard if it weren’t for Niall and his theory regarding sweets, a man’s heart, and setting the right mood for telling Louis how Harry really felt about him. 

But for all of Harry’s annoyance with Niall and his suggested plan, the person he was really upset with was himself. Because starting about six months ago, for no particular reason, Louis’ smile had started to give him that fluttery feeling in his stomach and he ached to kiss it off his lips. The way Louis moved in those sinfully tight trousers of his also made Harry want to rip them off with his teeth and he didn’t understand why he was feeling this way after being friends with Louis since they were in primary school together. Surely, somewhere along the way, Harry would’ve noticed that Louis was fit and that he wanted to be with him as more than a friend, but except for a fleeting thought here and there about Louis’ attractiveness, Harry had genuinely believed that he would never feel anything more than friendship for Louis.

It had been a series of disasters ever since, with Harry attempting many times to let Louis know how he felt. A part of him was terrified to say anything, because the thought of losing Louis as a friend would absolutely break his heart and he wouldn’t be able to stand it. The other part of him was determined to say something because Harry knew he had been acting weird the past six months and Louis, of course, had picked up on his mood and was concerned. He knew that if he didn’t tell Louis soon that Louis would start to investigate and figure it all out. 

He was deciding whether he should politely let Mrs. Thomas know that she needn’t bother continuing to clean up the mess when, of course, Louis walked into the building. He stopped short at the sight of Mrs. Thomas frantically pawing at Harry’s jumper with her handkerchief, pieces of custard still dripping down his face and neck, and got a look on his face that Harry knew too well.

“Lou, don’t you dare…”, Harry said, trying to push past Mrs. Thomas toward Louis, and getting stopped by her persistent, wandering hands.

Louis smirked, got out his phone, and said, “Smile for the camera, Haz”. He got several shots in before Harry was finally able to break free from Mrs. Thomas and reach Louis. Unfortunately, Louis was clever and, through years of knowing where each other’s weak spots were, managed to evade Harry, cackling as he ran toward the lift. Harry got there just as the doors were starting to close, the last image being of Louis and that damn smirk of his. It shouldn’t have been sexy, but as with everything else that had happened in the past few months, Harry wasn’t surprised he thought so. 

He dropped his head against the wall next to the lift, hitting it against the wallpaper a few times for good measure. He didn’t notice Mrs. Thomas approaching with Gertrude following behind, until she laid a hand on his shoulder. Startled, Harry looked up at Mrs. Thomas and attempted to smile, but based on her expression, it was more than likely a grimace.

“It’ll be OK, love. There were times when my Gerald drove me absolutely barmy, but, at the end of the day, we loved each other enough to work through most anything. You and Louis will be fine, I’m sure.”

Harry stared at Mrs. Thomas in horror as he realized that she thought that he and Louis were boyfriends, not just friends, and wondered how many other people thought the same thing. He didn’t know if Louis was aware of Mrs. Thomas’ assumptions and the panic that coursed through him at the thought that Louis had known all along about Harry’s feelings and had chosen not to say anything made him sick to his stomach. 

All he could do at that moment was nod at Mrs. Thomas, mumble a quick “thank you”, and quickly run out of the building. He sent a text to Louis letting him know that he wanted to clean up at his own place, since he had work later on that night anyway, and that he would see him later. Harry didn’t want to analyze how Louis’ quick response made him feel, or what he was going to do moving forward with his “Tell Louis I'm In Love With Him" plan. All he wanted now was a long, hot shower, a cup of tea, and to forget this day had ever happened. 

The expression on Niall’s face, who was waiting for Harry in his flat when he got back, reminded him that he also would be enacting some sort of revenge against his friend _very_ soon. 

2.

Harry had tried to write the letter at least a dozen times; each time worse than the previous attempt. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t find the right words. His part-time job involved writing songs for local bands, so it wasn’t as if he didn’t have the talent at finding the right words to match the right emotions. But this letter was different for so many reasons and it couldn’t be anything less than perfect. 

The problem was how did he write down all of the amazing things he felt about Louis? How did he get across that his feelings had changed recently and that all he wanted to do was kiss and hold Louis forever?

Harry decided that he needed a break and got ready to go to the local café that he and Louis often visited. They had the best chocolate muffins and tea and Harry was in need of both.

He managed to snag their usual table, even with it being a busy Saturday, and after ordering his tea and muffin, took out the notebook he had been working in earlier. He stared at the blank page in front of him, pen in hand, and wondered not for the first time, why he thought this was a good way to let Louis know how he felt. But then he remembered all the other aborted plans in the past couple of months and he was determined to finish the letter, once and for all.

The soundtrack playing over the speakers slipped into the next song and Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the selection. The Adele song reminded Harry of the first year he and Louis spent in London, on their own for the first time, in their first flat together, and scared out of their minds. For some reason, there was a period where their next-door neighbor loved to play Adele at top volume, at all hours. At first, both he and Louis were annoyed, (and were very vocal to their council representative about their frustrations), but one day, after the fifteenth playing of “Rolling in the Deep”, Louis lost it. He had started to laugh so hard that tears fell down his cheeks. Harry had been worried that Louis would choke, or stop breathing all together, and was about to say something when Louis finally stopped laughing. He had wiped the tears away from his face and, smirking at Harry’s concerned expression, said, “Up for a dare, mate.”

Thus began the week long Adele sing-along extravaganza in which both Harry and Louis put on a performance every night of all of Adele’s hits. They made a point to keep all of their windows open, so their neighbor could hear their show better. The funny part was that though Harry and Louis could sing, they went out of their way to be as off-key and loud as possible when singing the songs. On the fifth night, and halfway through their rendition of “Rumour Has It”, their next-door neighbor knocked on their door. He had apologized for playing his music so loud and so often and would promise to keep it down if they would promise to never sing an Adele song again. They had immediately agreed and started to giggle non-stop afterwards for a good ten minutes. 

It had been one of the best weeks of Harry’s life and all because of Louis’ crazy plan and how much fun they had enacting it.

The memory of that week, along with how he felt being Louis’ partner in crime, inspired Harry to start writing his letter and before he knew it, he had two pages completed. He wasn’t sure if he had said everything that needed to be said, but he believed it was enough for right now and was excited about getting it into Louis’ hands as soon as possible. 

He folded the pieces of paper together and wrote on the front, “For L…this explains everything. Love, H”. He then pocketed the letter and, in the process of rushing out of the café, didn’t notice that the letter hadn’t completely fit inside his jacket pocket and had instead fallen to the floor by his table. By the time he discovered he had lost the letter, and returned to the café to find it, it had gone missing. He couldn’t believe after all those rough drafts and hard work, he was going to have to re-write the whole thing. 

As he was leaving the café, there was a commotion near the counter and he looked over, curious to see what was happening. There was a man on bended knee in front of another man and it was obvious an engagement was in the process of beginning. Harry managed to flag down one of the waitresses to ask, 

“Do you know how this all came about?” 

The waitress smiled and said, “It’s the funniest thing. Apparently Lance found a note that Henry had left him, it being all proper and romantic-like, and Lance decided that he had waited long enough to make up with Henry. And here we are now!”

She flashed Harry another smile, before bouncing off to the counter to watch the engagement in process. As he also continued to watch the proceedings, he noticed Lance was holding a suspiciously familiar letter in his hands and wanted to scream out loud at the unfairness of it all. He obviously hadn’t been specific enough in the letter, if Lance mistakenly thought it was for him, or he only read the first paragraph or two and figured out what he needed to do from those few words.

Either way, Harry was denied another chance to show Louis how much he cared about him, (because there was no way he could go over there and burst the happy couple’s bubble). It was beginning to dawn on Harry that this process was becoming ridiculously complicated and maybe he should call in reinforcements before it ended up being 30 years from now and he was still going back and forth about how to tell Louis he loved him as more than a friend.

Stifling a sigh at the happiness and love he could see on both Lance and Henry’s faces, Harry quietly left the café again and headed home.  
One day that would be Louis and him getting engaged and smiling as if there was nothing in the world that could bring them down.

One day…

3.

Calling in reinforcements, while a sound idea, did not work out the way Harry had hoped it would. Namely, for some reason, he thought talking to his sister would’ve been a wise idea. Instead, as soon she understood what Harry was trying to do, she had been teasing him mercilessly. 

“Why don’t you tell him to his face, H? What’s the big deal? You know that Lou feels the same way as you do. It’s been obvious since you were kids.”

Gemma kept insisting that Louis, _of course_ , felt the same way and it would just be a matter of time before she had to pick out her maid of honor dress. Harry loved her optimism, but couldn’t dive into that particular hopeful abyss without a little more certainty of Louis’ reaction to Harry’s changed feelings. 

“You don’t understand, G. I can’t just _say it_ out loud like that. It’s been too long and you don’t know for sure that Louis feels the same way and I can’t…”

Harry stopped his ramble, choking on the words as he thought of Louis never wanting to speak or see him again. 

Gemma, being the great older sister that she was, moved over on the sofa to wrap her arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“Listen, little brother. I know you’re scared and I understand why you would be. But this is Louis Tomlinson we’re talking about. The same guy who defended your honor when you were six and those bullies were making smart-arse remarks about the color of your shoes. The same idiot who put on a whole song-and-dance in the middle of the school courtyard, when the two of you had the only major fight you’ve ever had in your lives, in order to make it up to you. He’s the same bloke who moved to London with you and has been by your side through everything since, good or bad. Why do you think, in a million years, that he would be nasty to you or end your friendship, because you have different feelings for him now? Besides the fact that I truly do believe he feels the same way you do, I honestly don’t think he would laugh in your face about this. I promise, H.”

Harry wanted to believe his sister, he really did, but he had tried so many times now to tell Louis and every one had been a disaster. Maybe that was the universe’s way of letting him know that he wasn’t meant to be with Louis. 

Gemma must of have realized the direction of Harry’s thoughts and pinched his shoulder. Hard. 

Harry yelled, “Ow, what the hell, Gemma?!” 

“Don’t go there, Harry,” Gemma said, “I know you’ve been disappointed with your previous attempts to tell Louis, but you can’t give up now. I’m here and I will help you come up with the greatest plan to sweep Louis off his feet. You with me?”

Harry thought of what it would mean to finally tell Louis how he felt and how wonderful it would be if he felt the same way. As scary as it was, Harry knew he couldn’t live the rest of his life not knowing, one way or the other.

“Ok, G. What’s your plan?”

Four hours later, his flat had been transformed into a romantic bistro, complete with candlelight, a gourmet meal, (“A friend of mine owed me a favor,” Gemma had told Harry, when she brought the dishes back with her from the local Italian restaurant), and Harry in a suit that probably cost more than six month’s worth of his salary, (“Don’t worry about where I got it, H. You look smashing in it and that’s all that matters.”)  
Everything was perfect and now the only thing Harry had to wait for was the arrival of Louis. He had texted him earlier, letting him know that he wanted to talk at his flat when Louis finished work. He hadn’t received a response, but Harry knew Louis’ schedule and he should be arriving here at any moment.

“It’ll be fine, H. You’ll see,” Gemma said, as she put on her coat to leave. 

Harry hugged her, thanked her again, and then she was gone. And Harry was left standing in the middle of his dining room, knots in his stomach and wondering when Louis would get there. 

After distracting himself with Twitter on his mobile for about a half an hour, Harry was beginning to get bored and decided to text Louis again to see where he was currently. 

Still no response and now Harry started to get worried. He called Louis next and it went straight to voicemail. Harry thought of where Louis could’ve possibly gone after work, before coming to his flat, but even if he had been delayed, Louis would’ve responded to his texts at least.

Harry sat down on the sofa, the suit jacket bunching up in the back, making him feel uncomfortable, and he started to get the feeling that Gemma’s plan might not work out after all. He just hoped that Louis had forgotten to charge his mobile rather than something bad actually happening.

He rested his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, Harry tried to relax and focus on the task at hand. He was going to tell Louis tonight, no matter the consequences.

***

Harry woke suddenly at the loud noise his neighbor was making out in the hall. He grabbed his phone to check the time and saw that it was 2 in the morning and that Louis had sent him 3 text messages. Relieved, Harry opened up the first text and cringed at the obvious drunken ramble that Louis had sent. 

Great, Harry thought, Louis had gone out with his co-workers for a drink at the local pub. That's why he hadn’t gotten back to Harry right away. 

Reading the second message, Harry got a knot in his stomach. 

_Met a fit bloke. Pretty eyes…wanna take him home._

The third message just said, _Gonna go for it! talk later_

It was sent at 1:20. Not too long ago and maybe, just maybe, Harry had time to stop this. Harry felt all of the anger and frustration bubble up inside from all of the previous times he had been thwarted in telling Louis how he felt and decided that he was done waiting.

Getting up off the sofa, he grabbed his wallet and keys that lay on the table near the front door, and soon found himself on his way to Louis’ flat a few blocks away. He didn’t know what he would find there or what he would say, but he couldn’t go on one more minute without knowing if there was even the slightest chance that Louis could love him back the same way Harry loved him. 

And he wasn’t going to let some “fit bloke with pretty eyes” get in the way of that.

He rushed into Louis’ building and made for the lift, pushing the button for the 7th floor. As the doors opened, Mrs. Thomas stepped out with Gertrude on a leash. Harry sidestepped them both quickly and got into the lift before the doors closed. As they did, Harry could hear Mrs. Thomas say, “Don’t let that sweet boy get away now,” which Harry took as a good sign. 

The 7th floor arrived and soon Harry found himself in front of Louis’ flat, number 715. All he had to do was ring the bell, as simple as that. But Harry knew his life would be forever changed afterwards and had a brief moment of hesitation. But then he remembered why he was doing this and what could happen if everything fell into place the way he wanted it to. 

He pressed the bell and waited for Louis to answer the door.

Instead, a complete stranger opened the door, shirt untucked from his trousers, and reeking of booze. 

“Can I help ya, mate? I’m kinda busy here, if ya don’t mind.”

Harry glared at the asshole in his way and said,

“Where the _fuck_ is Louis?”

Not waiting for the guy to respond, he pushed his way into Louis’ flat, calling for Louis as he did. He found Louis sprawled on the sofa, obviously still drunk from earlier, and yet still looking sinfully good in Harry’s eyes. 

That being said, his anger pushed him forward and he grabbed for Louis’ arms and pulled him up so he could look into his eyes. He wasn’t as drunk as Harry had seen in the past, but he also wasn’t coherent enough to have a discussion, much less hook up with a strange bloke in his flat. 

“Lou? Can you hear me? We need to get you into bed, alright?”

Harry was so focused on getting Louis up off the sofa that he didn’t notice the strange guy walking up behind him. 

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing? We were about to have some fun.”

Harry turned around and straightening to his full height, (which was helped by the heels on his brand-new boots), said,  
“If you know what’s good for you, _mate_ , you’ll fuck off home and never come back here again. Got it?”

The smarmy asshole looked livid at first, but after a couple of seconds, just threw his hands up in the air and started to gather his stuff.

“You know what? I don’t need all this fucking drama. And, honestly, he’s not even worth the potential shag.” 

And then he was out the door, slamming it shut behind him. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry focused his attentions back on Louis. At this point, Louis was half-asleep on the sofa, which made it difficult to get him up and walking toward his bedroom. Harry half-carried Louis there and, as gently as possible, lay him down on his bed. He took off Louis’ shoes, but didn’t want to bother with the rest, and pulled the covers up over him. He then went to the kitchen and got a glass of water and some paracetamol and left both on the nightstand nearest Louis. He was already starting to snore, (a fact that Harry _did not_ find adorable), and all Harry wanted to do was catch a few hours of sleep as well.

He took off his shoes and the suit jacket and lay beside Louis on the bed and closed his eyes. He didn’t know what the morning would bring, but either way, he was going to be here for Louis, no matter what.

***

The morning brought the sounds of Louis retching into the toilet and Harry tried not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. He slowly stretched out on the bed and reveled in the thought that today was the day. It wasn’t ideal, (with Louis being hung-over), and it wasn’t particularly romantic, but Harry didn’t care. Because he realized that the most important part was letting Louis know that he does feel this way, not how it should be expressed. Gemma was right in that Louis wouldn’t just laugh in his face or cut him out of his life forever. Harry had to trust that things would work out in his favor.

Louis came back into the bedroom, looking rather pale, and headed for the paracetamol and water. 

“Ta, mate,” Louis said, as he drank the entire glass, before putting it back on the nightstand and falling back onto the bed. Harry could tell that Louis had brushed his teeth after vomiting earlier and had attempted to clean up as best as possible. His hair was sticking up in the back, while the front fringe lay flat to his forehead. The shirt he had been wearing the previous night had stains on it that Harry couldn’t identify, (and probably didn’t want to identify), and his jeans were dirty as well. Harry shouldn’t have found anything about Louis’ appearance endearing, but he did, and was about to say something when Louis interrupted him.

“Did I imagine that you kicked out the guy I brought home with me last night or did that actually happen?”

Harry swallowed down his nerves before turning over to face Louis and answer his question.

“Yeah, I did. You were too drunk to know any better and he didn’t look like a good sort. I did you a favor, I promise,” Harry said, proud that he didn’t let any of his hatred for the guy slip into his voice.

Louis had a strange expression on his face and stared at Harry long enough that he was beginning to feel self-conscious. He was about to defend himself further when Louis interrupted him again.

“You know what, I can’t do this anymore. I thought that if I brought home that guy and had my brains shagged out for a couple hours, I could forget how distant you’ve been lately. I feel as if I’m losing my best friend and I don’t know what I did wrong. Please, Haz, please tell me how I can fix this.”

Harry felt sick to his core that Louis felt this way and knew that he had no further excuses.

“The thing is Lou, I,” Harry started to say, before stopping because of nerves, “I mean, that is, it’s just that I had this idea for the perfect plan and I...”

Louis interrupted him for the _third_ time and said,

“Look, Harry, I get it. I obviously must have done something to make you angry, and I just need to know what that is and I promise that I can…”

This time Harry interrupted Louis with a kiss. Granted, it was an awkwardly placed kiss and Louis, for the first few seconds, didn’t appear to know what to do, but then everything slid into place and it became perfect. Harry placed his hand on Louis’ neck and pulled him in closer, the soft slide of their lips making all of the stress of the past few months go away. Louis moved his hand down to Harry’s waist, his fingers tugging at Harry’s shirt, until he finally met skin. The warmth of Louis’ fingers sent shivers down Harry’s spine and soon the kiss shifted into something deeper. Louis rolled over on top of Harry and, after another minute, they were grinding on each other and Harry was this close to coming in his pants. 

He didn’t want to stop, but Harry eventually began to slow down his kisses and with one final suck of Harry’s bottom lip, (that made Harry whimper out loud), Louis finally pulled away as well. The harshness of their heavy breaths filled the room and Harry couldn’t remember seeing such a joy-filled expression on Louis’ face before. 

“You just couldn’t contain yourself anymore, is that it, Haz? Just had to get a piece of this action,” Louis said, waving his hand down his body, and smirking at Harry’s gob-smacked expression.

Harry smiled, reached up to grab onto Louis’ neck, and said,

“Actually, Lou, I’m in love with you. Have been for months and I’ve been trying so hard to let you know and I had so many plans that fell through. I just hope you feel the same. Do you?”

Louis looked a little gob-smacked now too and Harry worried that he had really gone too far in saying that he was in love with Louis. It was possible that Louis was attracted to him, but nothing more, and Harry didn’t know what he would do if that was the case. He was about to say that he understood if Louis needed some time to think about what he just said, when Louis crushed his mouth to Harry’s in a bruising kiss. After a few seconds, Louis lifted his mouth from Harry’s and smiled so widely and brightly, that Harry couldn’t help but respond with a similar grin.

“You’re such an idiot sometimes, Haz. Of course I’m in love with you too. I just never thought you would feel the same way, so I didn’t mention it before. Hell, I guess we’ve both been idiots this entire time. Can you forgive me for not saying something sooner?”

Harry laughed, a huge weight lifting from his shoulders at last.

“Of course, Lou. I’m just happy we’re finally on the same page, and I know we have a lot more to discuss, but I was kinda hoping we could continue with what we were just doing. Up for it?”

“I’ll show you who’s _up_ for it, Harry,” Louis said, as he kissed his way down Harry’s neck. 

And Harry finally understood that sometimes the best plan is the one you can never prepare for or even see coming.


End file.
